Village

,—is a collection of two or three miserable
huts, whose wretched inhabitants can but just
keep their clay in an animated state, by the scanty
pittance of the coarsest and most unnutritive diet.
However small the village is, one locust of society
at least you are sure of meeting, and one temple of
Ignorance at least you are certain, erects its grisly
and monkish head above the woods and plantations
of the Squire, in which temple the name of the
God of Peace is invoked again and again to go
forth with “our Fleets and Armies,” and to
“give us the power over our enemies” by their
destruction. Oh God! Oh God! Is this humanity?
But hold my impious tongue—it is Christian
charity.